


A Goal of a Different Kind

by dicklomatticimmunity



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Groping, M/M, Massage, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-22
Updated: 2014-10-21
Packaged: 2018-02-18 08:14:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2341349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dicklomatticimmunity/pseuds/dicklomatticimmunity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Manuel concedes a goal, he's usually not that upset. This time, he is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Manuel was anything but cheerful as he headed back to his hotel room. He'd let the other team score a goal, and that was unacceptable. He should have seen it coming, should have known better, shouldn't have wandered so far out of his box.

He also knew better than to be so tough on himself, but he wasn't listening to that part of him right now. All he wanted to do was sulk.

"Manu?"

Manuel looked up. Thomas was coming down the hallway towards him, concern written in every line of his face. He shouldn't look like that, Manuel thought. Thomas had been the one to save the team; he'd scored two goals, burying the other team's lone goal beneath them. Thomas should be celebrating.

"Hey," he said, misery coloring his tone. The last thing he wanted was to talk to Thomas. Soon, Thomas was going to be bubbling over with mirth, smiling that goofy smile at everyone, drinking copious amounts of beer, and having a good time. It seemed like something he didn't deserve to be a part of. He turned away and continued to walk towards his room.

"What's wrong, Manu?" Thomas asked. His footsteps became more hurried, and Manuel sensed that his friend was closing on him.

"I'm not well," Manuel half-lied. He felt fine; he just didn't want to participate in the evening's celebrations. The rest of the team would wonder where he was, probably, but it wasn't like they'd miss him terribly. They'd understand.

"Manuel," Thomas said, and Manuel stopped and turned as Thomas caught up to him. "Hey. You okay?"

"I just said I wasn't," Manuel replied, like it was the most obvious thing ever. He was steps away from his room; he just needed Thomas to leave him alone so he could brood in peace.

"This isn't about the goal you missed, is it?" Thomas asked. "You know better than to take it so seriously. You're better than that. You -- "

"Yes, I know!" Manuel nearly shouted, frustration getting the better of him. He took a deep breath and softened his tone. "But it still matters, okay? Every goal matters."

Thomas opened his mouth to say something, but he remained silent. Manuel shook his head and stepped towards his room's door as he slid his hand into his pocket, feeling around for his keycard.

"Look," Thomas said, his voice a shade lower than before. "I know you're upset. But you can't let it get to you, okay? Just promise me, Manu, that you're not going to beat yourself up over it."

Manuel looked at Thomas seriously. Thomas was just trying to cheer him up. It didn't help that Thomas was the guy who had scored the two goals that saved them, but Thomas couldn't help that. He sighed, and let his simmering anger deflate.

"I won't," he said. He reached out and gave Thomas a hug. Thomas hugged him in return, and gave him a solid thump on the back.

"You're coming down to celebrate, right?" Thomas asked, after a few moments, as he started pulling away.

Manuel wanted to say no, but Thomas was giving him that look that said he'd regret it if he refused.

"Maybe," Manuel hedged.

Thomas smiled and brightened considerably. "What'll it take to convince you?"

Manuel shrugged, because he didn't know if anything could.

Thomas leaned close to him. "How about this?"

Thomas' lips met his. It took Manuel a moment to register that he was being kissed. Without really thinking about it, he wrapped his arms around Thomas and pulled him closer. Thomas' lips, still pressed to his, split into a grin, and then Thomas kissed him again. This time, Manuel returned it, even parting his lips a little to let Thomas slide his tongue between them. There was a strong taste of alcohol on Thomas' tongue, and Manuel had to pull away, barely suppressing a laugh.

"Drinking already?" Manuel asked.

"Of course!" Thomas said, a wicked smile on his face. "You should be too, for that matter. Have I convinced you?"

Manuel smiled. "I think I'm going to need a little more convincing than that."

"Oh?" Thomas raised an eyebrow in what Manuel swore was a suggestive manner. Then, without warning, Thomas grabbed his crotch.

"Whoa," Manuel said, but Thomas wasn't done. Thomas pushed his back against the hotel wall, then kissed him again. Thomas' hand closed around his cock, feeling him through his pants, and the flood of resulting arousal made Manuel want to pull Thomas into his room and fuck him right then and there.

Thomas, tease that he was, started to pull away from him. Manuel had to wrap an arm around Thomas to prevent him from escaping so soon.

"Okay, okay," he said, slightly breathless. "I'm convinced. My room. After we celebrate, of course."

"Good!" Thomas flashed him a grin. "To the bar then, ja?"

Manuel nodded, and let Thomas go. Thomas grinned, then made his way down the hallway to the elevators. Manuel followed, wishing the heat from Thomas' touch wouldn't fade so quickly. He liked it when Thomas manhandled him, because the end result was always really great sex.

If Thomas' promise was good, he had that to look forward to, at least. He could be unhappy about the goal he missed later.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to post this with the final chapter, but I am my own worst enemy when it comes to editing. Chapter 3 still needs work... but yes, there will be sex by the end!

Manuel groaned as he massaged his temples. Pounding headaches never went away as a result of this tactic, but he reasoned that it might work this time, or the next time, or the time after that. The throb of pain didn't go away, though, so he drank and reveled in victory, denying that he needed painkillers and ignoring the voice in his head that told him to be more cautious with his consumption.

As he drained his fourth beer, the pain still hadn't vanished. He hadn't been drinking enough water, something Thomas was likely to chastise him for later; as a result, he was now dehydrated. Deciding he didn't want to wait for Thomas to find out, and not wanting to suffer any longer, he said his goodbyes and goodnights and headed to his hotel room.

The room was quiet and dark, just what he needed at the moment. Light shone in through the window on the far side; the courtyard was visible through the glass, a chorus of lights illuminating the space three stories down. It was the only light the room had, but it was enough to see by as Manuel made his way to the bathroom. He took the plastic wrapping off the complimentary glass, filled it with water, and downed the entire thing in one long gulp. He repeated this twice, and decided to wait. If he still had a headache after half an hour, he might resort to painkillers, but he hoped that hydrating would be enough.

For good measure, Manuel filled the glass again, then headed back into the main room. The room had two full beds; one was his, the other was Bastian's. He'd almost gotten a room with a single bed, which was his preference – so he could invite Thomas in and they could fuck – but for once, the hotel had enough two-bed rooms to accommodate the entire team, so everyone had to share. He didn't mind Bastian, but he would have preferred to be sharing with Thomas, at least. He couldn't remember who Thomas was sharing with. He amused himself with the possibilities – André, maybe? Or Marco, or even better, _Jérôme_ – as he sat on the edge of the bed closest to the window and stared out at the night. He smiled, and secretly hoped Bastian would be otherwise occupied later tonight as he slowly sipped his water.

As Manuel became accustomed to the stillness of the room, music from the courtyard below filtered up to him. The music had a steady, heavy bass to it, balanced with keyboards, ambient in nature, with vocals that floated on top, as though a distant voice speaking from the world beyond. He struggled to recognize it, and eventually gave up, the pain in his temples making it too hard for him to focus.

Manuel looked at the pillows next to him. Sleep sounded like a good idea, but he'd rarely been able to sleep off a headache. He set the glass of water down on the nightstand between the beds, then lay down. He almost wished housekeeping had left his bed unmade; he didn't feel like bothering to pull the covers down, but he did so anyway, shuffling and arching up until he could tug them down past his knees. Satisfied, he slid his legs beneath the covers and closed his eyes, and with a hand beneath the pillow under his head, dozed off to the steady beat of the music.

The digital clock next to his bed read, in glowing red digits, 12:05 AM.


	3. Chapter 3

Manuel was still mostly asleep when he heard what sounded like footsteps coming down the hallway. He listened, focusing on the muffled sound as it got louder. It stopped, without getting softer, so Manuel opened his eyes and turned his head towards the door to his room. The electrical _bzz_ of a keycard being read was loud, meaning that it was his door that someone was going to open. Bastian, probably, exhausted and ready to sleep.

Light spilled in from the hallway and reflected on the window as the door opened. The silhouette showed a man with short hair, and a build that was lean and compact. Manuel stared at the image, but he gave up on trying to identify who it was, instead choosing to watch the door and wait for whoever it was to appear.

"Manu?" Thomas' voice was strained, as though a whisper, but it sounded loud to Manuel. He frowned, and focused his aural attention on the rest of the room. The music downstairs was still playing, bass beat _thump thump_ ing away, but it was nowhere near as loud as it had been earlier. He could hear the hum of the refrigerator, too, which surprised him; it was rare that he was so intensely focused in this setting that he could take notice of such an insignificant sound. He might have been hearing the sounds of a news program from the television of the next room over, but it was so faint that he couldn't be sure if his mind was just filling in background noise.

He looked at the clock on the nightstand. It read, in the same glowing red numbers as before, 12:55 AM.

"Thomas," he grumbled as he stretched, shaking the sleep from his body. "You came."

Thomas stepped into view. His red-and-white plaid shirt was more of a dark-and-light check in the dimly lit room, and his black shorts stood out against the cream-colored wallpaper.

"Expecting Bastian?" Thomas asked. He leaned against the wall.

Manuel shook his head. "Maybe. I don't know. He's still drinking, isn't he."

"Most of the team is," Thomas said. He smiled, and the expression spoke of more than concern; mischief sparkled in his blue-grey eyes. "Wanted to make sure you weren't brooding."

Manuel laughed. The details of their earlier conversation came back to him, and he wished he'd stayed awake. His desire for sex right now was trumped by his need to get back to sleep, with Thomas wrapped in the sheets with him, if possible.

"I'm not brooding," he said. "Just a little tired."

Thomas laughed. "Silly Manu." He walked over to the bed and sat down on its edge, his butt inches from Manuel's calf. "A little tired? You didn't nap, did you?"

Manuel chuckled. "My head hurt." And, much to his relief upon thinking about it, his headache was gone.

"Oh Manu," Thomas said. He reached down to ruffle Manuel's hair, tangling his fingers in the short, light brown locks. "You're such a lightweight. How many beers did it take this time?"

"I am not a lightweight," Manuel protested. He let his eyes close briefly, enjoying the affectionate gesture. "And four."

"Four?!" Thomas laughed so hard he had to put a hand to his stomach. "Four, Manu? Four?"

"Shut up, Thomas," Manuel said, but he was smiling.

"That's so ridiculous," Thomas said. He leaned down and kissed Manuel's forehead. "You're older than I am. I'm the one who's supposed to drink irresponsibly."

Manuel frowned. He didn't want to get into old debates with Thomas right now. "That's enough," he said firmly.

Thomas had been about to say something, but he stopped, then nodded once. "I'm sorry." Thomas reached for Manuel's hand, then lifted it gently, bringing it to his lips and planting a kiss on it. "I'm just excited."

"You're always that," Manuel said. He smiled, understanding Thomas' gesture for the apology it was. He decided to change the subject. "You're not very drunk, by the way."

"Didn't want to get too drunk." Thomas slowly lowered Manuel's hand. "I was hoping to do a little after-celebrating."

"We still can," Manuel said. He waggled one eyebrow.

Thomas laughed. "I thought you had a headache."

"Don't now." Manuel reached out, intending to pull Thomas down on top of him.

"Wait," Thomas said, backing out of reach. "I have a better idea. Turn over, and let me get the massage oil." He got up, leaving a shadow of his warmth on the bed, and headed over to the large dresser.

"Oh Mülli," Manuel said, mimicking the voice of a husband from a lingerie commercial. "You know how to turn a man on."

Thomas gave him a friendly glare, and Manuel laughed as he rolled onto his stomach. He turned his head so his right cheek rested against the pillow. "I'm just teasing," he said.

"I know," Thomas said. He opened the top drawer and began rummaging around. A few moments later, he withdrew his hands, the bottle of massage oil firmly grasped in one of them. He pushed the drawer closed, then reached down and grasped the hem of his shirt, pulling it up towards his head. 

"You can take it off slowly if you like," Manuel said, letting a soft tone of suggestiveness dip into his voice.

Thomas grinned, but he removed his shirt hastily all the same. "Not now Manu. Close your eyes and relax."

Manuel sighed, but he was smiling. "Fine." He did as Thomas said.

Thomas straddled him, calves closing around his hips. He heard Thomas flick the cap off the bottle of massage oil, and a moment later, he felt Thomas' hands on his back, warm and slick with oil that was strongly scented with frankincense. It was one of his favorite aromas.

"You're going all out, aren't you," Manuel said as he shifted his hips, already a little uncomfortable.

He could practically hear Thomas' grin. "Gotta get all that sleep out of you," was his reply.

"I'm awake now," Manuel said, as he stifled a yawn . His back was starting to tingle with heat. He was sure it was turning bright red already, like it always did when Thomas gave him a massage.

"So you say," Thomas said. Warm breath brushed over his neck before moist, slightly chapped lips pressed against his skin. Manuel sighed, content to let Thomas kiss him wherever – _everywhere_ – he wanted. He savored every touch of Thomas' lips against his skin, every knead of Thomas' hands into the muscles of his shoulders and upper back. It wasn't something he got to enjoy often; they were usually too busy for this kind of sensual attention, so he did his best to relax and bask in this now.

He did his best because he was becoming distracted with arousal.

"I'm so lucky," Manuel said, the words spilling out of him, unfiltered and true. "So what if I let a goal in. I have you."

Thomas laughed. His thumbs dug into the backs of Manuel's shoulders. "And I have you, babe."

Manuel smiled and let out a deep, exhaustive sigh. "You give the best massages. Especially when I need them."

"You shouldn't be so tense all the time," Thomas jested. "Some day, you're going to get chained to your box. You're giving the fans heart attacks."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you," Manuel said, a sultry edge to his voice. He could imagine it now; him, with manacles around his wrists, each linked to one of the posts, with chains that had just enough slack to allow his arms to hang at his sides, and Thomas, pushing his undershirt up, tugging his shorts down enough so that Thomas could push his cock inside him, leaving little for the world around them to see.

"Oh, you bet I would," Thomas answered. "I'd convince Pep to make me a substitute. Then I can have you all to myself, while the game goes on at the other end of the pitch."

"Can't have twelve men on the field."

"I'll knock Schweini down, or something. If he's playing."

Manuel laughed, though he really shouldn't have. Bastian's current injury was serious. "You'd have to give him a massage too, then." He considered the idea, then added, "I'm sure he wouldn't mind, though."

Thomas snorted. "Him and Fips have something going on. I think he's taken, Manu. Much to mine, and your, disappointment."

Manuel tried to imagine Philipp and Bastian together as more than teammates. Sure, they'd been – still were, at least for Bayern – captain and vice captain, but was there more to it?

"You think it's some sort of kinky thing?" he thought aloud.

"I don't know," Thomas said. He shrugged, and Manuel could feel it in the way that Thomas' touch lightened, then firmed again. "Not my business."

Manuel hummed in agreement. Thomas' hands moved to his lower back, rubbing circles into the muscles there, and he luxuriated in the sensation, letting his eyes flutter closed.

"Besides," Thomas said. "All I need is you."

Manuel smiled. "Same. You know that."

"I do," Thomas replied.

"You also talk too much." Manuel nudged his hips against Thomas'. "You're making me regret leaving my boxers on."

"Mm?" Thomas asked, as his teeth closed around Manuel's earlobe, tugging on it before letting it go with a wet sound. "Sorry, babe, what was that?"

"Fuck, Thomas," Manuel moaned, as he rolled his hips up and against Thomas', hoping he got the idea.

"Hey, I'm naked," Thomas said. There was a smile to his tone. "The question is, why aren't you?"

Manuel blinked, and looked over his shoulder. Thomas sat up, and sure enough, he was wearing nothing, and was very obviously aroused as well.

"Then what are _you_ waiting for?" Manuel asked.

Thomas grinned, and began to remove Manuel's boxers. "Up. And grab that pillow, while you're at it."

"Do you look like my captain to me, ordering me around like this?" Manuel joked, smiling as he reached for the pillow next to his and handed it back to Thomas.

" _You're_ the keeper of the armband while Fips and Schweini aren't around," Thomas pointed out. He pulled the boxers down to Manuel's knees. "You want me to go find it and wear it for you?"

"Maybe next time," Manuel said, because as hot as a little role-playing was, he needed Thomas inside him _now_. He slid one leg out of his boxers, then kicked them off the other leg, not caring where they landed.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you," Thomas said as he leaned down and pressed his chest to Manuel's back. He slid his cock back and forth between Manuel's cheeks. "Pretending I'm your captain, doing as I tell you."

"Fuck," Manuel moaned. Thomas was right; he did want it, and would do it to Thomas too if he wanted it. Thomas' chest was warm against his back, and the weight of Thomas on top of him was a reminder that it was Thomas who was going to fuck him, not the other way around. The anticipation was driving him wild, and he pushed his hips against Thomas' again, doing it with enough force to lift them both up from the bed.

Thomas took the opportunity to slide the pillow beneath him, raising his hips. The contact against his cock was the worst kind of tease.

"You did remember the lube, right?" Manuel asked, voice so rough with arousal that he barely understood his own words.

"Mmm," Thomas said noncommittally as he gently bit Manuel's earlobe, then tugged.

" _Fuck_ ," Manuel moaned, louder. He dug his hands into his pillow, tense with pleasure. "Please."

"I remembered," Thomas whispered into his ear, "mein Torwart."

Manuel gasped as a shudder went down his spine. Thomas' lips closed around his earlobe, and he cursed softly, ripples of arousal igniting his senses all at once.

"Thomas," Manuel gasped. "Please. Please, please, fuck me."

"Mmmm," Thomas hummed, almost a purr. "I love it when you beg." He sat up and scooted back, slowly sliding his hands down either side of Manuel's back.

"Please, I need you," Manuel pleaded. His voice was thready, as though it would snap, along with the rest of him. He could feel Thomas' hands on his back, sliding down to cup his ass, but it wasn't enough, nowhere near enough, and fuck, but Thomas was being such a damn _tease_.

Something slick pressed against the line of his asscheeks. He gasped, arching into the contact, slick and warm against his skin. Thomas' tongue descended further, making circles over his anus, and Manuel moaned so loudly that he had to shove his face into the pillow to muffle the sound.

"Manu," Thomas said, voice low, richer than fine chocolate. His breath was warm. "You're so beautiful."

"Fuck, Thomas," Manuel muttered, as Thomas rimmed him. This was unfair, so unfair, but it felt so indescribably amazing that he let Thomas continue. Thomas' tongue swirled against his skin, moistening it, lavishing it with saliva. Some of it dripped down to his balls, and _gott_ , but that felt amazing.

"Amazing, Manu," Thomas whispered against his skin. Thomas' tongue swept over his perineum, slowly. "I wonder if I look like this when you do this to me."

Manuel only got to think about it for a few seconds. Thomas' tongue pushed inside him, and fuck, oh _fuck_ that felt amazing. Any hope Manuel had of Thomas fucking him soon vanished in a puff of smoke; Thomas clearly intended to drive him out of his mind with pleasure, and only have mercy after he was a babbling, incoherent mess. His hips moved of their own accord, tiny jerks that demanded Thomas take him.

"Please," he begged, voice deep, heavy with desire. "Need you."

"Shh," Thomas whispered, breath warm against Manuel's wet skin. He squeezed Manuel's cheeks as he pushed them down against the pillow. "Let me give this to you."

Thomas' tongue slid inside him again, and he cursed loudly, toes curling as Thomas pinned him to the bed. Thomas fucked him with his tongue, making the most obscene noises he had ever heard, and it drove him mad with lust. He wanted to scream, to tell Thomas to fuck him already, but words vaporized before they made it to his throat, disappearing in the rhythm of Thomas' tongue, in, out, in, out again, over and over. 

An eternity later, Thomas' tongue slid out of him, leaving a trail of wet saliva dripping down his skin.

"Please," Manuel begged, his lust-clouded mind failing to form anything more coherent. "I need you, need you now needyoufuckmefuck – " The words rushed out of him, an incoherent torrent that didn't stop until Thomas' hand squeezed his right asscheek, thumb pressing teasingly against his anus.

"Fuck." Thomas' voice was low, huskier than before. "Christ, you're so hot." The sound of a cap being popped off was loud, even against the roar of Manuel's pulse in his own head, and he looked over his shoulder to see that Thomas was lubing up a pair of fingers, clear gel dripping thickly onto Thomas' hand.

"Skip it," Manuel said, his tone hoarse with arousal. He would take the pain, as long as Thomas got inside him _right now_.

Thomas raised an eyebrow at him. "I do want you to actually enjoy this. I'm not a sadist."

Manuel stared at Thomas, but it was clear that he wasn't going to give in. He sighed gently, then nodded and let his head rest against the pillow again, surrendering to Thomas and whatever his mischievous lover had planned.

Thomas smiled as he trailed his fingertips along both sides of Manuel's spine. "Soon, Manu." As one hand slid to the top of Manuel's spine, a lube-coated finger pushed inside him.

Manuel gasped, as he instinctively resisted the intrusion, but he forced himself to relax. Thomas had long fingers that weren't as thick as his, but when Thomas lubed up a second finger and slid it inside him, he hissed, briefly registering pain as he was stretched.

"See?" Thomas pushed both fingers in to the knuckle.

"Oh fuck," Manuel breathed, as Thomas slowly, gently fucked him with his fingers. He did his best to relax, to breathe evenly, but fuck, everything felt too good and he was eager for Thomas. He caught himself curling his fingers into the sheets, and he had to force himself to loosen up. It was becoming increasingly difficult to focus; every thought dissolved in a cloud of lust that demanded _take me_.

"Breathe," Thomas whispered, as he pulled his fingers out, then pushed them in again. "You're tense."

Manuel let out a deep breath and did his best to obey. Thomas only had to remind him one more time to breathe, and keep breathing, but it was so hard. He muttered _oh fuck_ and _fuck_ and _fuck me_ into the pillow. His hips moved in involuntary jerks, pushing against Thomas' fingers, and every time he felt Thomas' knuckle against his skin, he let out a little whimper, because Thomas' fingers would curl inside him and make stars explode against his vision.

When Thomas' fingers slid in and out easily, he inserted a third finger. The pain wasn't as harsh as Manuel had expected it to be, but this was taking forever, and fuck, _fuckfuckfuck_ , he could feel a wet spot forming against the sheet beneath the tip of his cock.

"Only you would make me wait so long," Manuel said, going for teasing, but between heavy breaths, his voice was more needy, heavy with unsated desire.

"You have no idea," Thomas said, between ragged breaths, "How much I want to take you right now. How much I want to fuck you. You're a tease yourself, Manu. So buff and beautiful and handsome." There was a possessive quality to Thomas' voice, as he sucked in a harsh gulp of air. "Just want to fuck you and see what happens. Want to pound you into the mattress until we both come. Want to fuck you so hard that you walk funny for _weeks._ Make the whole team wonder what happened to you."

Manuel made a keening sound as he conjured mental images to go with Thomas' words. He barely noticed when Thomas' fingers withdrew from him, making a wet _smock_ sound. He barely restrained himself from fucking the sheets as Thomas' hands abandoned him. There was a slick sound behind him, and _finally_ , Thomas was lubing up, preparing to enter him.

"Jesus, Manu," Thomas whispered. The sound of the cap going back on the lube was barely audible over Thomas' breathing. Thomas must have tossed it aside, because Thomas' hands were on Manuel's hips, pulling him back. "So beautiful like this, all laid out before me."

Thomas pushed inside him, slowly, taking him time. Manuel moaned loudly, then shoved his face into the pillow, certain that he would be heard by the occupants of the adjoining room.

"Nein, Manu," Thomas chided between heavy breaths. He pushed into Manuel a little more. "I want to hear you. Scream for me, Manu."

"Fuck," Manuel cried, brokenly, as he lifted his head. The mental image of Thomas wearing the captain's armband rose in his imagination again, and he couldn't help but rock his hips against Thomas'. The movement caused Thomas to slide all the way inside him at once, sack pressing against his ass, and he couldn't help but tense around Thomas, feeling every inch of him, as though by doing this he could keep Thomas inside him forever, binding them together both body and soul.

And yet, it wasn't enough. He reached down, and he almost had his hand around his cock when Thomas pinned his wrist to his back.

"Please," Manuel pleaded, not caring how helpless he sounded. "Please, let me."

"Not yet." Thomas' movements stilled before lips pressed against his neck. "Soon. If I let go, will you promise to hold back?"

"Yes," Manuel sobbed, even as he wanted to rebel against the idea the instant Thomas let go. But when Thomas released him, he clutched the sheets, and Thomas' hands grabbed his hips, fingertips digging into his skin before Thomas fucked him in earnest.

"Good," Thomas said, as he leaned down, pressing his chest to Manuel's back. His thrusting slowed, but with each one he went in deep, the sound of his sack slapping against Manuel's ass becoming louder with every thrust. Manuel closed his eyes, surrendering to everything but the feeling of Thomas on top of him, inside him, filling him again and again. His body thrummed with bliss, a palpable feeling, and he could smell, over the frankincense, a hint of Thomas' cologne, something fresh and airy, mixed with sweat.

"I – " Manuel was close, so close. His voice was so deep that it was nearly unintelligible. "I'm – please, Thomas, please, oh yes please just fuckfuckfuck – " He broke off. Thomas' thrusts had quickened, and the sound of their contact was even more obscene and louder than before. The air around them was warm, almost hot, and he felt like he was in the middle of a supernova, simmering on the horizon of explosion.

"Fuck, Manu," Thomas said, voice melting over Manuel's earlobe. Thomas' hand wrapped around his cock, and he was going to come, he was so close, but then Thomas' lips pressed against a spot just behind his left earlobe, and he lost it. He came all over the pillow and sheets, orgasm shaking through his entire body, driving his toes and fingers into the bed, too blissed out to care if he tore the sheets.

"Manu," was Thomas' barely audible whisper, before Thomas stilled above him, going tense as whipcord, the grip on his hip painful as Thomas came, spilling his pleasure, filling him with heat before collapsing on top of him, panting heavily over his shoulder, inches from his ear.

For a while, Manuel simply breathed. He clenched around Thomas, even as Thomas started to go soft inside him. His back was starting to hurt, so he grabbed one end of the pillow and pulled it out from beneath them. When they settled, Thomas let out a pleased gasp, then went silent, breathing steadily with him.

"I would make a terrible captain," Thomas said, some moments later.

"You'd be great," Manuel said. "I know how seriously you take yourself and others. But..." He chose his words carefully. "It might take all the fun out of you. And we can't have that."

Thomas laughed. "That would never happen."

Manuel smiled. "But do you want to be captain?"

There was a silence before Thomas finally answered.

"Nein. You're right." Thomas kissed him on the cheek. "It might take all the fun out of me. Besides, there's nobody to succeed me as team prankster."

Manuel was glad Thomas' head was slightly over his shoulder; it was enough to allow him to kiss Thomas' cheek in return. "But you can be mein Kapitän, if you want."

Thomas grinned. "It will be my pleasure, mein Torwart."

They fell asleep together, goals both missed and scored forgotten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for this taking so long. I can become an editing freak if left long enough to do so.
> 
> Also, there may be a, uh, variant on the ending of this fic coming soon. After all, somebody else might need sleep...


End file.
